Full House
by Puff Pastry Breadbug
Summary: Nothing everywhere. A Time Plug. Items from the Old Universe. A malfunctioning maze. Something bad is happening to the House, something very, very bad. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter 1

Full House

**(I can't believe I got this idea for a name first - it's fabulous. For those who are wondering whether I'm gonna pick up any other story - not so likely. Sorry! This is going to be multichapter - hopefully a long multichapter, unlike Times of Day, for instance. So, I present to you, the Secondary Realms - Full House.)**

SNEEZER, LORD MONDAY

Sneezer was, to put it simply, having a bad day.

He could remember all those times in the Lower House, during Mr. Monday's reign, when it was inundated in paperwork. Yet he, the personal servant of Mr. Monday, never had to do any.

Now, as he signed paper after paper, not really caring what it said or what it got him into, it was much, much worse.

Sneezer looked out onto the Atrium, and the rest of the Lower House, with it's big, grey city, beams of elevators, and the cave that led to the Coal Cellars. The New Architect had brought him back for a single purpose - to be Lord Monday, the Master of the Lower House, and currently Master of Paperwork - but lately Sneezer's once one-track mind had begun to stray. He had asked the New Architect what this was about, and he got an answer that did not please him.

The New Architect had made thinking Denizens.

Oh, they would still do their jobs. It's that they also wrote books for enjoyment, went on vacations to other parts of the House, and did not focus so dumbly on a single thing - like filling ink bottles, or cutting quills.

Sneezer sighed and put his head in his hands. Preposterous.

Strangely, something inside Sneezer reacted in that moment. He couldn't tell, of course, but a tiny, microscopic dot of Nothing had blossomed into his right eye, glimmering in the early morning sunlight.

SCAMANDROS, DR. TUESDAY

Scamandros was embarrassed.

The Grand Cavern shimmered in the hazy twilight provided by the wallcrystals - which went against everything that he had learned, considering it was a giant cave surrounded on all sides by rock and dirt - and he had yet to figure out how to make a Not-Horse.

A small village, much tinier than any of the other demesne's, had been built around the small spring of Nothing, which he and his Dawn, Noon, and Dusk used to make slower - and less pricey - things for the other Trustees.

Sometimes it was frightening, looking out past the village, with it's two streets and cozy cottages and lamps, and seeing the vast empty brown of the Grand Cavern. But off in the distance were the beautiful crystals that adorned the walls, places where he might build shimmering cities one day.

But at the moment, any thought of that was gone.

He was standing with his Dusk, a handsome man with black wings, a crop of dark brown hair, a large top hat, and a swallow-tailed black coat. He had appointed each of his Times of Day as an expert on a certain type of Nothing-Made material - Dusk was Flora and Fauna, Dawn was Weapons, Food, and Sorcery, and Noon was, well, Everything Else.

"Problem?" Dusk asked in his whispering voice. A small smile barely curled his lips upwards.

"Well, that is to say, um, yes." A variety of tattoos, many with blushing faces, danced across Scamandros' forehead. "With Not-Horses."

Dusk's smile grew a bit wider. "Come."

They walked through the sleepy town together, to the central square, where the Villas of Dawn, Noon, and Dusk were, as well as Tuesday's Fountain, the base of his operations. As the two walked towards the regular-sized fountain, they both shrunk in size, until they were only about an inch tall and could enter the spring.

Inside was a quiet workplace - Dawn sat at her table, a gobbet of water-diluted Nothing in her hands, slowly forming it into Activated Ink. Noon had taken a break from actual work and was bending a Nothing blob into a bowler hat.

Scamandros and Dusk went past the two, who acknowledged them with a greeting.

They finally came to the most magnificent of places - Tuesday's Balcony, a large, Immaterial walkway that wrapped around the perimeter of the fountain interior.

In this center was a large, vertically moving jet of Nothing, rumbling quietly. When it reached the top, it was forced into a water spell-net, diluting it and making it easier and much, much safer to work with, yet not as powerful.

Dusk reached out to the Nothing column and beckoned a gobbet, which promptly flew towards him. An exclamation mark tattoo appeared on Scamandros' chin - his Times were getting much better.

As Dusk began to explain, Scamandros tuned one half of his brain to him and one half to his problems. The other Trustees - most notably Thursday, Wednesday, and Sunday - were inundating him with requests. He had even been asked to create a 2,000 page count of Immaterial Paper within a week by Lord Monday. Impossible!

And something else was haunting him. The New Architect had confided only to him - Suzy would most likely talk too much about it - that in a few years he would call together the first New Trustee Convention - something that was scary enough to sent all the tattoos off his face.

But for now, he thought, turning to Dusk's completed Not-Horse, it's time to work.

No one noticed the water spell-nets break.

DAWN, LADY WEDNESDAY

Dawn flew above the Border Sea in her preferred form, that of a golden shark with wings. It calmed her to look on the blue-grey waters from above, always rocking back and forth.

A spray of jet-black interrupted her calm. Nothing!

She flew down, calling on the power of the Third Key. Dawn could hardly believe a spray this big could have escaped her notice; she had established a new fleet of Nothing-Searchers with stronger hulls and sails to notify her of impinging Nothing, as well as the original fleet Lady Wednesday had created so long ago.

Lady Wednesday. Dawn gulped down her tears. It was surprising, really - the entire destruction of the Old Universe had taken nought but a few years, and it had only been ten or so since The New Architect and all his Trustees said goodbye to Arthur, the mortal Heir to the House.

Dawn finally reached just above the Nothing, and changed instead to her winged Denizen form, in order to better wield the Third Key. Many fish skeletons lay scattered across the slick Nothing - evidence that the appearance was sudden, not gradual.

Dawn frowned. What was this?

It was a Denizen half of his body eaten up by Nothing.

"Return to the Void!" She sternly commanded.

The Nothing vanished, leaving a skeletal region of dead corals and fish bones. But below, she could see something black - more Nothing, welling from the _bottom_ of the Border Sea? Nothing came from the line of storms and the walls of the House - not from the demesnes themselves.

Dawn ignored this for the moment and turned to the Denizen. She didn't know him - he wasn't someone from the Border Sea, that is. An Unwary vacationer from the Lower House, maybe?

The mystery Denizen looked at Dawn, pain in his eyes. The Nothing crawled over his skin, eating away at him at an alarming rate.

"Lady Wednesday," he croaked. "Arthur...get Arthur Penhali-"

The Nothing horrifically consumed the Denizen's lips, leaving a jawbone hanging loose as the Nothing crawled up to his terrified eyes.

All Dawn could do was take the bones of his hand in hers, and watch as the Denizen died.

Something cold slipped from his hand, something circular.

Dawn grabbed it from the cold water and lifted it to her eyes.

It was a circular portrait of Drowned Wednesday.

Dawn was so startled she almost dropped it into the water. The old Trustee's brown hair shimmered in the grey morning sunlight, and her body was thin and shimmering in a wispy blue dress. She didn't smile, yet there was a twinkle in her eyes that suggested she was thinking of her Border Sea.

Dawn stared. After the universe ended, the lost things in the ocean disappeared, and new ones had just begun to accumulate. No memories of the Old Universe remained in the waters; how could a Denizen get something that didn't exist?

Lady Wednesday, still clutching the locket, took off into the sky, flying towards Port Wednesday.

Just as she left, a burst of Nothing exploded into the water, dissolving the bones of the Denizen and clouding it with black once again.

FRED INITIAL NUMBERS GOLD, SIR THURSDAY

The tile Fred stood on was quivering.

He could feel it. This single tile had interrupted base Nithling training by grinding to a halt, stopping any tectonic strategy whatsoever.

After sorcerously digging a hole into the foundation of the tile, Fred found the problem - a slick, oily sheen of Nothing on all the strange mechanisms deep within it. He had cleared it away with a single flick of the Key, but had still felt unwary, so had posted sentries all around to remain on the tile, even when moving.

This tile was exceedingly strange in it's environs, something that Fred had thought of when the New Architect, but when he mentioned tile 12/500, the glance from the former Ray Green had silenced him.

The tile had the widest range of environs, from forests to prairie, from lakes to saltwater. But in the center was a medium-sized clearing, and on it stood a house. Not a house from the House, really - a house from the Secondary Realms, from Ray Green's - Arthur Penhaligon's - time. It recalled a single memory from all the times Fred, as a Piper's Child, was washed between the ears - that his house had not been too unlike this one. The New Architect, however, had strictly forbidden anyone to enter.

The tile's quivering grew to a low shaking, then harder, and harder, until it was trembling so much Fred called on the Key to help him. "Calm the ground," he ordered silently.

But the trembling continued, albeit not as strongly. It _was_ the work of the New Architect, after all.

The tile then slowly began to move northward. The squeaking and grinding of it made Fred cringe- his Great Maze was usually orderly, oiled and cleaned to perfection. The Nothing sheen on the gears had eaten away at the Immaterial protections, cutting into the beautiful work of the New Architect.

He flipped out his Ephemeris, until he came to the page with eight foldouts on each side - a detailed map of the Great Maze. He found square 12/500 and tapped it with the Key. A projection appeared, larger than the rest of the tiles, slowly moving upward while other parts of the maze rearranged themselves quickly.

Suddenly the tile squeaked, and rushed forward, zooming past other squares. The others, too, flew by in a frenzy, until the powerful map created by the strong Fourth Key couldn't keep up and crumbled, disappearing into the powerful wind.

Fred had desperately stuck the Fourth Key's blade into the dirt, getting a good grip on it before checking his problems. All of his sentries had been blown away by the wind, landing if they were lucky on a less problematic tile, or being squished between two of the blocks.

Fred glanced up, trying to follow the path of the tile. He glanced at the Ephemeris. The strain on the map was so strong that the book had torn itself to pieces, shrieking and flying away in little bits.

Suddenly a tile slid into view, just two miles in front of them. It barreled toward 12/500.

Fred Initial Numbers Gold braced for impact.

ONE WHO SURVIVED THE DARKNESS, MADAM FRIDAY

Madam Friday, or Darkness as she was called by her former eyriemen, stood on the peak of the Middle House.

The breeze blew a warm, moist air into her veiled face, ruffling her wings' black feathers. The Extremely Grand Canal wound lazily below her, surrounded by Paper Pushers supervised by her Noon. Below, her extremely well-trained eyes picked up the glint of gold reflected by the Gilded Youths and the people of Letterer's Lark as they showed some top-rate gilding to her Dawn.

And just below her, between the two upper layers of the Middle House, was her former home - the eyrie of the Winged Servants of the Night.

She had been surprised when the New Architect had recreated her - and even more so when she became the ruler of the Middle House. Suddenly, everything she had protected her entire life in the Old Universe was hers.

Earlier that day Darkness had visited the Guild of Illustration and Augmentation. When she was a Winged Servant, she would often volunteer to do the rounds here, as occasionally a piece of colored paper blew away from the Illustrators, and she would pick it up, examining the beautiful parchment. How she had wished to be full of reds, blues, greens, instead of blacks!

And now she was.

The new system devised by the New Architect had been working perfectly. The Lower House now not only kept all the records, but also wrote the books, while the Middle House would illustrate, gild, and bind them. The Upper House would imbue them with sorcery, and then they were finally ready to be read. It was perfect, in Darkness's mind.

She looked back at the Scriptorium. Her Dusk was receiving all sorts of people, from the High Guildmaster of Binding, to a messenger from the Border Sea.

Darkness extended her wings, and dove down in a graceful arc towards the Flat, meaning to check up on the extensive books from the Lower House that needed to be illuminated. Her ripping, long, black hair flew past the eyrie of the Winged Servants of the Night, whistling in the wind.

Darkness didn't notice how Nothing was gushing forth from the eyrie, or how a small Denizen, much shorter than a Piper's Child, stuck a piece of colored paper into it, giggling madly.

GIAC, COUNT SATURDAY

Giac had to say it - he was extremely proud of the Upper House.

When he first arrived, sent by the New Architect, he and Suzy had looked at it with dismay. All he had to work with were four trees, a slab of stone, and three mountains.

Now the Upper House was the most delicate, beautiful demesne in the House.

After Suzy, now Lady Sunday, cast away the clouds, the emerald green ceiling got Giac to think.

Using the power of the Sixth Key, Giac extended a single root from each Drasil and brought it to the center of the Upper House, where he made it grow to epic proportions. Into these roots he carved steps, squares, and pathways, until a maze of a city extended on all four roots, covered in cobblestone and Sorcery Offices. Not to mention the odd building full of chaise lounges, of course.

Then, he had built vast, beautiful bridges from each mountaintop, soaring over the floor, where he had begun to cultivate grassy fields and prairies. In one of these bridges he now made his home, the one directly over the City of Four Roots, as Denizens called it.

He sat in his office, which had a completely glass floor, so he could look upon his creation. Standing in front of him were his Dawn, Noon, and Dusk.

Giac had gotten rid of the very idea of Sorcerous Supernumeraries, instead giving failed Sorcerers a chance to work in low-level jobs, then work their way up. He had also destroyed the Internal Auditors and the vile Bathroom Attendants, leaving the only servants left to be his Dawn's half-crazy Artful Loungers, who slept on the underside of lounge chairs and painted pictures with Nothing.

Giac stopped looking at the floor and picked up on what his Noon was saying.

"...Need a vast quantity of servants, and very soon. Artful Loungers are all very well, but we need more-"

"Are you insulting my Loungers?" asked the bell-like voice of the Dawn. "They are perfectly adequate."

"Yes, adequate to be put in an asylum," whispered Giac's Dusk slyly, his black tongue flicking like a Bibliophage's.

"Enough!" Giac sternly commanded. "If you want more servants, you'll have to contact the New Architect, which is hard enough for us Trustees."

The three Times of Day thought about this. Then Dawn piped up, "There may actually be a closer date than you think, brothers, Count Saturday."

"Oh? When?" Giac asked curiously.

"The New Trustee Convention, in three year's time," Dawn smiled, curtsying. "We could most certainly bring up the topic then."

"How did you find out about this?" Giac wondered.

"Let's say that little Denizens have big ears, especially in the Far Reaches," Dawn murmured.

"Ah." Giac was slightly depressed he hadn't known of this before his Times. No matter how tall and handsome he became, a bit of Sorcerous Supernumerary stuck to him. A Denizen, when in a sad mood, was often called a 'Count Saturday'.

"Well, I'll think about it. Checkers, anyone?"

As Dawn and Dusk began to play, and Noon sat down opposite Giac, cracking his knuckles, no one noticed a pair of scissors outside the window.

The scissors, like the stilettos of the Artful Loungers, was imbued with a small amount of Nothing, as well as a resevoir of Activated ink mounted on it. It was busily snipping the air, seemingly cutting up nothing.

But it was slicing through something, that was for sure. It was slicing elevators, telephones, lines of sorcery that held the Upper House in balance.

All the while, a steady trickle of Nothing wound lazily through the stones of Saturday's Bridge.

SUZY, LADY SUNDAY

There was nothing like the Croquet Lawn.

Random, nonsensical, gorgeous flowers exploded out of the ground here and there, winding around the delicate marble croquet loops, peaceful and tranquil.

Until a croquet ball zoomed at 90 miles per hour through it.

Suzy raised her mallet in triumph. "That's how it's done!" the Piper's Child called. Her blond hair fairly shimmered in the sunlight, contrasting with her constantly squished top hat.

"Wish Old Primey was here to see me!" crowed Lady Sunday happily. She swung the mallet, connecting with the grass, which exploded, sending a cloud of dirt over everything.

Of course she didn't mean it. Now that Dame Primus had turned into the Architect-whatchamacallit thing and destroyed everything, there was no super-tall person to boss her around, force her to do chores, or wrestle her into a pink dress.

Watching her from the sidelines was Art, sipping a lemonade, protecting his face from the dust with his hand.

"Quite the game," he called to her.

"Yeh, routine fer me, anyways!" Suzy yelled back.

As Suzy strolled over to him, balancing on the mallet, Art decided to tell her. "Suzy, if I tell you something, do you promise not to tell everyone over dinner."

Suzy spat in her palm. "You have my word," she promised.

"In three years I will call together the first New Trustee Convention, and have already prepared a worldlet outside the Great Maze for it. It will be the first time Trustees have met together since the Old Universe, and will be the first time you will see any of the Trustees besides Giac."

"I'll see Doc again, and Sneezer!" Suzy shouted, then covered her mouth. "Whoops. But Art, why're you keepin' it all secret?"

"It just feels right; the topic I'm going to bring up is a bit... different." Art blushed. "I'm not sure why I'm so worried."

Suzy laughed. "Eh, come off it! It'll be fine, you just wait."

The jovial Lady Sunday skipped off into the Incomparable Gardens, watering a few plants here and there, never noticing the black flower that sat among the rest, it's roots spreading wider than any of the Drasils'.

The New Architect noticed, though, and made no move to destroy it.

"It's begun," he sighed.

**(I think that's longer than, like, all of my stories put together. Some notes: Have any of you played Rune Factory Frontier? Know Selphy? She's my idea of Suzy Turquoise Blue, except the hat is maybe brown. Also, Dr. Scamandros, though bald in the books, is going to be given long black hair pulled into a ponytail a la Thomas Jefferson in the TV series **_**John Adams**_**. Also, he invariably wears spectacles. The Lower/Middle/Upper House system was devised by me, with some borrowing from the actual series. Any of you surprised by my Trustee choices? Underwhelmed? Angry?)**


	2. Chapter 2

Full House

**(And now, for the Secondary Realms' enjoyment, I present Chapter Two of Full House, with special thanks to first reviewer Traveller59: I didn't know who to stick in as Tuesday, and the characters Japeth and Mathias just bugged me. almostinsane: Giac and Scamandros were my favorite characters, but I couldn't figure out where to stick Giac if Scamandros was the Upper House. Plus, he's a sorcerer, so... This story will have multiple pairings, and Suzy/Art will be there, just not exactly how you think... (mysterious). Look to the ending note for pairing couples. Also, thanks, Usowishuwereme for the review! This chapter won't have big paragraphs for each character - it's the New Trustee Convention, and there will be many differing opinions and thoughts bouncing around. I imagine it in the style of the Constitutional Convention in the USA, or the Second Continental Congress. Also, a hair change - I rewatched Harry Potter, and have discovered my ideal Scamandros model - Severus Snape. Add about three feet, take away any face wrinkles, soften the eyebrows, add a pair of spectacles when you need them - perfect!)**

DAWN, LADY WEDNESDAY

"What?"

Lady Wednesday Dawn's voice rang loudly across the Port Wednesday station. The usual beams of elevators were weaker, transparent, and occasionally shook.

The elevator operator was quaking in his boots, obviously terrified at being surrounded by four superior Denizens.

"S-s-something must have happened in the U-u-upper House, milady," he trembled. "Th-th-th-that's where all the elevators are tied together."

Dawn stepped in front of her Times, standing a good four feet taller than the operator. "What is your name and precedence?"

"Ebbenforth, 856,234,156th in precedence within the House, if it pleases milady. Elevator Operator Second Class."

Dawn sighed. "Very well, Ebbenforth. I will deal with this myself. Who is highest in precedence among your particular Elevator Operator Association?"

Automatically, Ebbenforth recited, "Within the 254th Elevator Association of the House, highest in precedence is Coradellia, 852,111,025th in precedence within the House. Shall I fetch her?"

"Please do so," Dawn asked, in more of an order-like tone of voice than a request.

Ebbenforth bowed deeply, then disappeared into the crowd of Port Wednesday-goers, all staring at either Lady Wednesday or the wavering elevator lines.

Three years had passed since Dawn had found the portrait necklace of the old Lady Wednesday, and since then, things had not been good on the Border Sea. More and more often scores of Nissers, the servants which she had asked the New Architect to recreate, seemed to disappear from the waters, as were her Noon's patrol boats. And even though every day she spent flying above her sea, banishing Nothing from the water using her Key, more and more seemed to be coming from the bottom of the ocean, not from the Secondary Realms and such. It was all she could do to keep the major landmasses clear of harm.

In fact, Dawn had been so busy that she had relied on her Times of Day to think of any problems within the demesne, not having time to think herself, and now Noon and Dusk stood with a stack of papers. She thought she would have a peaceful elevator ride, sorting through the various papers and for once not restlessly watching the Border Sea, but it seemed as if that too was but a fantasy.

Dawn lifted the Third Key from her belt and raised it high.

"Strengthen, elevators, so I may reach the Great Maze!" She called.

The elevator lines stopped quivering, but seemed to have trouble holding their shape, and it took all of the Third Key's power to keep them in check.

"Milady."

A sweet, cordial voice came from behind her. Coradellia stepped to Dawn's side, bowing low.

She was dressed in a smart suit, with a black skirt instead of trousers, and had long blond hair not unlike Dawn's own.

"Coradellia, I presume?"

"Yes, milady."

"Post Elevator-Sentries around this station. I will also give you authority over twoscore Nissers to use as you like. Sunscorch, a good friend of mine, is the leader of my fleet. He will be docked in Port Wednesday's Second-Third Point Sixty-Nine Dock, just next to the Grand Counting House. Report to him any disturbances or problems with the elevators. Clear?"

Coradellia bowed again. "Yes, milady."

Without a further word, Dawn and her Times of Day entered the now-open elevator, unsure of where exactly the elevator would take her.

FRED INITIAL NUMBERS GOLD, SIR THURSDAY

Doctor First Class Papellion adjusted Fred's sling.

"I believe it will heal in a week's time, sir," the Denizen explained.

"Thank you, Papellion. Dismissed."

As the doctor left, Fred remembered the awful experience of what the people of the Great Maze now called the Tile Disturbance. He had lost over three hundred score men, and had many more missing. And that wasn't counting permanent or vacationing civilians.

Fred himself had only survived by the Fourth Key's power, but still managed to get his savage-sword arm crushed between two tiles. But besides that, he had had to appoint at least a dozen new Lieutenants, Sergeant-Majors, and Troop Sergeants. He still needed a suitable replacement for the Fair-Weather Cannoneer of the Moderately Honorable Artillery Company, the leader of that faction, and surpluses more.

His Noon, a man formerly named Jarrow, who had helped Fred and Arthur get to the Citadel for the first time, scurried up to him and saluted.

"Marshal Noon," Fred acknowledged.

"Sir, the _Disturbance Ephemeris_ seems to think that tiles 45/872 to 65/899 are safe to cross for a day."

The _Disturbance Ephemeris _was a quickly-published Ephemeris detailing the likely paths most of the tiles had taken during the Disturbance, and similar patterns, noted by Borderer Mapmakers First Class. It had proven, more than once, to be more than a little wrong.

It was a chance he'd have to take.

"Fetch Marshals Dawn and Dusk, please, as well as two score of the Horde, and the same of Borderers and Artillerists."

"Yes, sir."

As he left, Fred sighed. Very few men, even of the honest Legion, seemed to be willing to leave stationary tiles. Fort Transformation had been abandoned - the tile had apparently moved far from it's fixed position. The lower left corner of the Maze was in pandemonium from the extra tile wedged unevenly between four others. Fred himself had gone to investigate the problem, and had found the same oily slick of Nothing under the Fort Transformation tile, although much, much, more, as thick as a sponge cake. It had taken much of his energy to rid the tile of the first layer, and after resting for a few hours, there seemed to be more Nothing gummed on than ever.

His thoughts were broken by the arrival of his three Marshals. Dawn saluted.

"Sir! I have received a letter from the Recruit Records."

Dawn handed over a letter with an envelope the size of Dusk himself. Fred unfolded the envelope to read what was written on the inside.

To Fred Initial Numbers Gold, Sir Thursday, Commander-in-Chief of the Glorious Army of the Architect, Overlord of the Great Maze,

The time has come for the recruitment of the following Denizens of the House:

Sneezer, Lord Monday, Master of the Lower House

Scamandros, Dr. Tuesday, Lord of the Far Reaches

Dawn, Lady Wednesday, Duchess of the Border Sea

One Who Survived the Darkness, Madam Friday, Mistress of the Middle House

Giac, Count Saturday, Ruler of the Upper House

and Suzy Turquoise Blue, Lady Sunday, Lady of the Incomparable Gardens

They must serve in your Glorious army for the appointed century, beginning in three year's time.

Sincerely,

The New Architect

"What?" Fred exclaimed. "Trustees have to do a century?"

"All except you, sir, for you show great prowess in commanding the Army already," noted Dusk.

Fred tossed the huge letter to the floor. The rest of the envelope was covered in details and such, six copies of _The Recruit's Handbook_, and other items which the Trustees would need in their recruitment. "I don't have time for this! Dawn, please gather the rest of the papers for the convention, but add that too. Prepare to leave in thirty minute's time!"

SCAMANDROS, DR. TUESDAY

Next to the Void, Scamandros felt very, very small.

The swirling mass of Nothing, though pushed back quite far away, was still gigantic, a wall of black that never ended on either side. It's depth was forever, but exact measurements were lost in it's cloudy coal-like fog.

In front of the wall of the Void sat a small worldlet, miniscule next to the mass of Nothing. Through it's bubble-like Immaterial walls there seemed to be a pleasant grassy field, and seven doors located in a circle around a large, short building, each divided from the other by walls.

It had been a trying three years. The water spell-nets had broken, and pure Nothing had gotten everywhere, incredibly hard to control. Scamandros had just managed to protect Cavern Village, but now deep pock-marked holes of Nothing were scattered everywhere else, looking like a chinese checkers board. More difficulties had followed, with impure Nothing gushing up and a slow, steady, slime of Nothing spreading over the floor of the Grand Cavern, stretching from Nothing hole to Nothing hole. It was all Scamandros could do to keep his demesne from becoming a vast lake of Nothing. And the New Architect had yet to help him.

Slowly the gate lifted into the air, and he took a step forward.

Everything suddenly spun out of proportion. The Void shoved backward, getting farther and farther away but still looming over them, and the worldlet rushed towards Scamandros' face. It spun around until it found a particular door, then launched him at him, air rushing past his skin.

A moment later, Scamandros opened his eyes. He was in a slice of the worldlet, surrounded by dull whitewashed walls on either side. The edge, only a yard away, seemed to drop off into the ocean of Nothing only a few meters below.

Scamandros and his Times shakily got up and dusted themselves off; Dusk settled his top hat back on his head, and Noon wiped his face with a handkerchief.

The four of them walked towards the door, marked 'TUESDAY'. It was at least eleven feet tall.

Dawn, curtsying, opened the door.

Scamandros walked into the New Trustee Convention.

ONE WHO SURVIVED THE DARKNESS, MADAM FRIDAY

Curiously, Darkness noted, everyone had arrived at the same time, though she had seen none of them at the Cleargate.

The room had seven ornate desks, each with four places set, arranged in a semicircle - obviously where they were to sit. In front of the seven desks was an even larger one, where the New Architect stood. Darkness sucked in a breath - even though this was the millionth time she had seen him, the sorcerous power radiating off of him was gigantic.

She took a look at the other Trustees, not having seen them ever before. Darkness had often felt the Middle House was slightly cut off from the other demesnes, a House unto itself. Or maybe that was just her silent, brooding Winged Servant personality.

Sneezer, Lord Monday, was a handsome man, impeccable dressed in a tuxedo, with reddish hair slicked back off his forehead. He looked very pompous, a person you didn't want to talk with for too long. His Times of Day didn't seem too pleased with Monday either - Dawn and Noon were shooting exasperated glances at each other under giant stacks of paper.

Scamandros, Dr. Tuesday, was of the taller variety, and had a slightly larger nose than anyone else in the room. His black hair was in a tussled, yet shaped style, stretching to his shoulders. As she had seen briefly in the Old Universe, he wore a yellow greatcoat, rumored to be filled with hundreds of sorcerous contraptions from the Old House.

Dawn, Lady Wednesday, looked as she always did - blond hair, alligator riding crop, wise aura. But she seemed extremely tired, fragile; bags hung under her eyes, and her emotions flittered like a tiny Secondary Realms butterfly.

Fred Initial Numbers Gold, Sir Thursday, was very strangely proportioned. He was muscled, dark-skinned, thin, very tall, and had a faint youthfulness about him, something all Piper's Children possessed. His closely cropped black hair, standard Army style, matched the deep brown of his eyes and the strange sheen given off by the Fourth Keys.

Giac, Count Saturday, had a peculiar look to him. His hair wasn't unlike Thursday's, but his robes were gigantic, not because he was fat, but because they were simply too big for him. The seemed to be miles of various blue fabrics, silk and cotton all mixed together like a quilt. Giac's brooding, black eyes roamed the room, probably assessing his fellow Trustees.

And Suzy, Lady Sunday... Suzy, was, well, Suzy. Unkempt blond hair, squished top hat, blue swallow-tailed coat, the only new addition being a lace umbrella that was most likely the Seventh Key.

"Welcome, Trustees, Times. Sit." The Architect's voice stopped Darkness from any other musings. As if hypnotized, everyone sat themselves in their respective desks, all staring intently at the New Architect.

Her Dawn, Noon, and Dusk, she noted, had less stacks of notes than anyone else's did: Monday's especially seemed to be glad to put down the huge stacks of notes.

"As was regular in the Old Universe, we will start the complaints with Monday, working forwards. Sneezer?"

Lord Monday stood up, cleared his throat, and began.

SNEEZER, LORD MONDAY

"I have a number of grievances for the other Trustees, including my fellow bookmakers Friday and Saturday, but none more so than good Scamandros, Dr. Tuesday."

Scamandros' head looked up, his black curls bouncing in surprise. "Oh?"

Sneezer nodded. "I believe the manufacturing of Nothing in the Far Reaches is at an extremely slow rate. Seeing as that is what the Far Reaches is made for, I believe we should widen the spring of Nothing."

A flurry of outbursts from various Trustees was silenced by the New Architect.

"We are a fair House now, and shall put it to a vote. Trustees, you may confer with your Times of Day."

DAWN, LADY WEDNESDAY

Dawn had to suppress a snort of disbelief when she heard Sneezer's first point. Didn't he remember _anything_ about the Old Universe?

"The time to confer is over; let us begin the voting with the Lower House."

Sneezer stood up, proud, confident. Dawn swallowed a laugh when she saw his stomach sticking out a bit. "The Lower House votes yes."

Scamandros cleaned his spectacles before standing up. "The Far Reaches votes no."

Dawn stood up. "In the danger of the universe being consumed by Nothing, I think it's pretty obvious that the Border Sea says no."

Fred, after a quick whispering session with his - what did they call the Times of Day in the Maze? - Marshals, stood up. "The Great Maze says...yes."

Dawn's eyes widened, as did Scamandros'. Sneezer nodded smugly.

Madam Friday, a former Winged Servant of the Night, stood. She was beautiful, in a peculiar way. Her dress had many layers, but was wispy and black, and seemed like it was moved by an eternal wind. A black veil obscured her face, and her ebony hair trailed down to her hips, thin and swishing. Friday didn't speak; she just shook her head no.

Giac stood up, large robes sweeping out behind him. "The Upper House votes no."

Suzy didn't bother to get up, her feet comfortably splayed on the desk. "Nah, Doc has enough on 'is shoulders."

The New Architect nodded. "That's that, then. Sneezer, you may continue."

Dawn yawned and lay her head on the desk, listening to Lord Monday drone on and on about various problems he had with other demesnes. It was going to be a long day.

GIAC, COUNT SATURDAY

Giac carefully wrote with the Sixth Key, pretending to be taking notes, 'CLOSE MY EARS'. It did its job, thankfully shutting off the monotone voice of Lord Monday. Giac could tell that Monday's Times didn't look pleased either; Dawn was doodling, Dusk was rolling his eyes, and Noon had taken the opportunity to nap.

Giac thought about the last three years, and how they had been riddled with disaster. Day after day, something seemed to happen in the Upper House - though most of it was connected with elevators and telephones. Every minute there seemed a new invisible cord snipped, an action which, to reverse, took at least six hours of extreme concentration.

And then, just a day after learning of the Trustee Convention from his Times, his base of operations, the Bridge positioned directly above the City of Four Roots, had collapsed from Nothing contamination. He had managed to hold up most of it, but some had smashed into the city, killing Denizens and destroying hard work and beauty. As he had worked on clearing and rebuilding the destruction, at least seven hundred telephone lines were snipped, giving him even more work that took over three months. And coming in day after day were complaints by Sneezer, Lord Monday - in fact, Giac and his Times often said that Sneezer seemed to be the only Trustee afflicted by a Sin this time around - he was the only potentially malevolent Trustee of them all.

Giac looked up. He had opened his ears as soon as his Dusk informed him that Sneezer was done, and had voted yes in an effort to help Scamandros with the Nothing lake within the Grand Cavern. The New Architect had promised to help as well, meaning that the Trustees had barely any work to do - a flick of the wrist, and the New Architect could banish all the Nothing from the Cavern. Presently, it was Dawn's turn, and she was still

"There is one matter which I would like to discuss," she stated. "Three years ago, to the day, I found a cloud of Nothing within my Border Sea."

Sneezer snorted and muttered something about 'what else is new?'.

Dawn, ignoring him, continued. "This Nothing was in an area patrolled by myself personally only a day before. Not only that, but the Nothing was coming from the _bottom_ of the Border Sea."

Everyone, including Sneezer, sat up at that, most notably the New Architect, who had only spoken to put propositions to a vote. Giac jumped violently. Besides the Grand Cavern and the Border Sea, his own demesne had also recently had trouble with Nothing, not only with the Bridge but also with the telephone lines; only Activated Ink and other Nothing-products could destroy the invisible wires or the elevator shafts.

"Yes, and stuck in the middle of that Nothing pool was a Denizen, one that I did not recognize from the Denizens of the Border Sea, and later inspection showed that he never entered the Border Sea on vacation. Because Nothing is diluted by water, he had managed to stay alive, just long enough to tell me to get Arthur Penhaligon, and give me... this."

She held up a pendant, put onto a golden chain. On it was a circular picture of a beautiful Denizen, one who looked like a Trustee. She wasn't anyone Giac knew, but Scamandros, the New Architect, and Suzy all gasped with surprise.

"For those of you who don't know, this is a picture of D-drowned Wednesday, my former Master," Dawn whispered, quivering, her eyes brimming with tears.

"But how is that possible?" Scamandros asked in shock. "All the lost things in the Border Sea disappeared after the Old Universe was destroyed!"

The New Architect beckoned to the pendant, and it floated quickly through the air towards him. He grabbed onto it and began turning it over, obviously confused.

"I trust, Dawn, you will not mind my borrowing this?"

Dawn bowed. "Not at all."

ONE WHO SURVIVED THE DARKNESS, MADAM FRIDAY

Darkness quietly assessed the House as Dawn took her seat. That was four demesnes so far that had Nothing troubles, including her own. The eyrie of the Winged Servants had been consumed with Nothing, so much that Darkness doubted it could have been a mere 'leak' as her Times had told the public. In that catastrophe she had lost threescore Winged Servants, some of which she had known previously in the Old Universe. More Nothing had cropped up, most on the Middle of the Middle, and strange reports of loud laughing were coming daily from the Guild of Illustration.

Darkness listened intently as Fred stood up, his arm in a sling.

"A disastrous thing happened in the Great Maze roughly at the same time Wednesday discovered the pendant," he began. "The tiles stopped working properly, most likely due to a strange coating of Nothing on their mechanisms, and started zooming everywhere. I lost many a good Denizen in the Tile Disturbance; my own arm was crushed between two tiles. No one leaves the secure forts on their stationary tiles anymore, but even Fort Transformation, where myself and the New Architect trained, flew across the Great Maze, even though it was supposed to be stationary. It ripped through and destroyed at least eighty-five tiles, and is currently lodged in between four other tiles, it's bottom sticking up and displayed for the House to see."

The New Architect made a small sound, inaudible to all but Darkness' trained ears. It sounded like a whimper of sadness or regret.

He nodded to Fred. "I will come to the Maze as soon as I am done helping Scamandros."

Fred saluted. "There is another matter which I need to discuss. Noon?"

Noon handed Fred a large scroll of paper.

"Apparently, the century-long recruitment of the Trustees, excluding yours truly, is to begin in three days time."

Darkness froze beneath her veil, a stark contrast between the angry mutterings of the other Trustees.

Fred glanced at the New Architect. "Apparently, this was in the Recruitment Storehouses and flew out unpredictably this morning."

The New Architect blushed slightly. "Ah, yes, I had predestined a time for the Trustees to do their recruitment, but as it was prescheduled, I didn't know such troubling times would, ah, fall upon the House."

"Ah, come off it, Arthur!" Suzy said. "You command the 'ouse, so just do some magic or summat like that an' get rid of the recruitment!"

The New Architect sighed. "I imbued quite a lot of power in that document. It will take me several months to fix it. Until then, everyone must avoid food or drink; if you even touch a coin with Sir Thursday's emblem on it, you're recruited."

Darkness drooped, her veil spreading out on the desktop. This was crazy; if she left the Middle House for one more second, madness would descend. Thank the House the Architect had slowed down time on the worldlet; only five minutes would have passed in the House after they returned from the full day.

She motioned for her Noon to stand. She signed in Winged Servant language to Dusk _'Tell him to tell them of the black spring of death spouting from my former abode,'_ the best she could do in the language. Dusk nodded and whispered to his friend. Noon smiled and began.

THE NEW ARCHITECT

Art was exhausted; there was trouble everywhere except for the Lower House, but that was besides the point; he had to break the news to them of his plan.

Suzy had just finished a loud talk, still sitting, about the gigantic roots that had spread over the Incomparable Gardens, destroying everything in it's path. Giac had also told of the collapsing of his Bridge and the telephone and elevator problems.

Art massaged his temples; he had been on a two-day vacation to a remote Secondary Realm and had not remembered to slow the time there, so by the time he returned to the House, four years had passed.

All the Trustees and their Times were looking at him intently; he had to close the Convention.

Art stood.

"Everybody, there is one addition I have to make. You have already noticed the extreme problems within the House, all of which pertain to Nothing, no?"

Everyone nodded.

"There is but one reason for this; a Nithling. Not just any Nithling - a Nithling that was created from a folly of mine. A Nithling rarer than a perfectly circular Gore-Draken"

Curious muttering.

"I call this Nithling a Maw, and it was created when I separated Arthur Penhaligon from my body."

Surprised murmurs; Sneezer and a few others had not known of this.

"The Maw is both in the Void somewhere and imbued in me, keeping me with all my power and life. The only reason the Old Architect did not create one was because the Old One was Denizen-like in genetic makeup, yet I separated myself to make a mortal being. So the only way to fix these problems is to retrieve Arthur from the Secondary Realm known as Earth, locate the Maw in the Void, and join us three together. But there is a catch."

Unsurprised whispers; in the House, a catch was normal.

"If we were to conjoin, the endless font of youthfullness that encompasses the Denizens would die out."

Suzy was the first to understand this. "So if you go an' patch yourself together again, we all just kinda crumble? Lose our immitality?"

"Imm_or_tality," Art absentmindedly corrected. "And yes. I shall put it to a vote. The Lower House?"

Art turned to Sneezer. He had not, evidently, consulted with his Times. "The Lower House says no, do not find the Maw."

In that moment, Art could see something glimmer in Sneezer's eye, something shiny and round, something menacing.

"The Grand Cavern says yes."

"The Border Sea says yes."

"The Great Maze says yes."

A nod for the Middle House.

"The Upper House says yes."

"Yeh, I guess, for the Incomparable Gardens."

"Then it's settled." Art stood up. "I will need to check which day it is on Earth in order to retrieve Arthur Penhaligon. Here goes."

The entire worldlet spun around, and several Times were knocked to the ground. Arttook out a pocket watch.

"At the moment, it is a Wednesday on Earth. Dawn?"

Dawn bowed. "I will do my best to get Arthur Penhaligon here."

Art nodded. "Meanwhile, I will begin to search for the Maw. To leave the worldlet, poke the Immaterial Wall outside your hall. Stand steady; it's a tough ride back."

Giac sighed with relief. "At least we're going home! Who knows what happened in the House in just five minutes?"

Art blushed a bit and hung his head. "That's the problem. When I checked for the Earth day, I accidentally loosed the time bonds I put on this worldlet. When you get back to the House, you'll have been gone for..."

"For 'ow long?" Suzy demanded.

"Five _months_."

"WHAT?"

**(Thank you for reading! A note on couples: There will be a lot of Art x Somebody Else, some Trustee x Trustee (in fact, two very important plot-related couples), and Some Trustee x Time of Day. You may be surprised as to who Art/Arthur ends up with. That's another thing: through the course of the story, Art and Arthur will be separate people, with separate minds and crushes. Will Arthur consent to becoming one with the New Architect again? Find out next time on Full House!)**


	3. Chapter 3

Full House

**(Welcome back to Full House! Thank you again for the review, Traveller59: you'll see Sneezer's character develop a bit in this chapter. Usowishuwereme: I did wonder if that would be confusing. Maybe I'll add a line about the Cleargate or something similar... zen129: I have other plans for Noon... almostinsane: this chapter will be chock-full of pairing beginnings, don't you worry. Anyway, this is the chapter where Arthur returns to the House. We will introduce **_**four**_** new points of view, one in first person. One of them isn't actually a point of view, seeing as it's not focused on anyone in particular. Wahoo! Enjoy!)**

ARTHUR PENHALIGON

Arthur stared at the rain.

It was a strange rain, more than he had ever seen in his life. Cascades of it came down in great sheets that looked like waterfalls.

Bob entered the living room. "Hi, Arthur," he said quietly.

"Hi, Dad," Arthur whispered.

It had only been a month since Arthur had returned from the creation of the New Universe, yet it must have been years since he left the House.

A deep, stabbing pain in his chest was constantly there, reminding him of Emily, stuck in a loop and dying from Nothing dissolution-

_'No,'_ a voice in his head said. _'You will not think about that.'_

It was hard not to. His head was constantly filled with thoughts of either his mother or the people in the House that he missed: Scamandros, Giac, Sunscorch, Suzy...

"Leaf's coming today," Bob told Arthur.

"Really?" Arthur said, immediately perking up. Ever since the quarantine had lifted, and he, Bob, Michaeli, and Eric moved somewhere else, he hadn't seen much of Leaf.

"Yeah, her school's on vacation, and she knew you moved here, so..."

Arthur thought that a total stranger could detect the gloom in the house nowadays; Bob moved with a shuffling walk, dragging his feet on the hardwood floor, Michaeli had trouble making friends - _Michaeli_, not making friends - and Eric often concealed himself in his room, not talking to anyone else.

Bob listlessly shuffled away, upstairs, and into the relative safety of his studio. It made tears well up in Arthur's eyes to see his dad so traumatized, so lifeless.

The sound of a car interrupted his thoughts. The familiar energy-conserving car Leaf's family owned pulled into the Penhaligon's unpaved, rocky driveway, bumping and skidding over the tiny stones.

Bob walked down the stairs, almost a new person, with a smile on his face and a rain jacket. He no longer hobbled around; he was up and moving again.

But Arthur could still see the difference: The half-heartedness of the happy smile, the wrinkly, not-taken-care-of jacket, the slight catch in his step.

Arthur joined him, grabbing an umbrella. For a fleeting moment, he remembered Saturday's Tower, Giac, and the millions of bright umbrellas sitting in perfect rows.

He walked outside.

LEAF

Leaf flung herself into Arthur's arms the moment she saw him. Into his shoulder she whispered fiercely, "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Arthur automatically replied, even though it wasn't.

They walked around to the side of the house.

"Have you gotten anything from the House yet?" she asked.

"No, the New Architect - me, really - promised to leave me alone."

As they spoke, the rain got harder and harder. Finally it came down so hard the umbrella fabric ripped, leaving Arthur and Leaf open to the pouring water.

"We have a side door!" Arthur yelled over the thunder and lightning.

But when they got to the door, it was covered in a thick sheet of ice, so thick it was essentially unbreakable.

Meanwhile the rainwater had flooded the yard, turning it into a pool of mud. The water rose in a strangely formed shape, like a block.

"Come on!" Arthur yelled.

They raced around towards the front of the house, but a wall of water crashing into the timbers stopped them.

Arthur and Leaf looked around frantically as the water began to close in on them. The water sealed the top of their prison, leaving them in a single cylinder of air. It was strangely dream like, the thunderous sounds of the storm lost in the water.

Leaf felt a twinge in her side, something that reminded her of her time as Lieutenant Keeper of the Front Door. Something like - intense sorcery.

She blacked out as the water crashed in on them.

MONDAY'S NOON

**(Ladies and gentlemen, Monday's Noon, in fear of our editors, has chosen to relate a first-person account of Arthur's arrival in the House.)**

I stood nervously in the Atrium, a space cleared in the tents and cushions and carpets especially for Arthur Penhaligon's arrival.

The other Trustees and some of the Times of Day were also here - my sister and brother, seeing as how Arthur knew us best, were present.

The past month had been awful for us. The other Trustees had been swamped with work after the time bending in the Convention worldlet, and Sneezer had managed to create approximately 5,623 complaints for us to write out. Let's say it was less than pleasant.

The New Architect paced nervously, muttering something that was most likely a 'sorry' speech. Nearby, Dawn, Lady Wednesday, was shaking with the effort of using the Third Key.

"H-h-h-he's a-a-arriving!" shrieked Lady Wednesday.

I immediately turned my attention to the small hole to the Void that had appeared above the wood. It was swelling, increasing - and then I saw a flash of a mouth, huge and wide, with hundreds of rows of teeth. It could only have been the Maw, grinning at us from it's hideout in the Nothing.

Then a young boy's body popped out, landing with a thunk on the wood. He was sopping wet - however Lady Wednesday chose to bring Arthur here, it must not have been pleasant.

Just behind him seemed to be a girl - the one named Leaf, the one that became Lieutenant Keeper.

But the breach into the Void had been created specifically for one person, and as the girl's body was about to fall through, the hole began to close.

ARTHUR PENHALIGON

At that both Arthur and Leaf awoke, and began to scream.

Fred reached out with Army-quick reflexes and grabbed hold of Leaf's arm and pulled. From her shriek of pain she must have almost lost an arm, but Fred managed to drag her out of the Nothing - and she landed with a decisive _thunk_ on Arthur's stomach.

"What...where...the ATRIUM?"

The New Architect hauled Arthur to his feet using sorcery.

Arthur exploded. His face turned the color of Raised Rat cranberry juice, and his knuckles turned white. "YOU SAID YOU'D LEAVE US ALONE! YOU LIAR!"

"Be at peace," soothed the New Architect frantically.

Arthur found he could do much more ranting without asthma, and was about to do so when he saw Suzy.

"Oh. Hi, Suzy."

"ARTIE!" Suzy yelled, jumping over the collapsed, exhausted body of Lady Wednesday and enveloping him in a giant bear hug.

"You okay?" Fred asked Leaf gently.

"Yeah, I guess I'm getting used to near-death experiences anyway," she said, laughing a bit.

"Told ya I bags bein' Lady Sunday, but I actually got it!" Suzy was saying joyfully, then muttered under her breath, "Plus, there's no Old Primey around."

Arthur laughed, all his anger disappearing within a moment. For even though he currently hated the New Architect for breaking his promise, Arthur had to admit - it felt like coming home.

SNEEZER, LORD MONDAY

Sneezer had had the most peculiar dream.

_He was standing in the Atrium, only for once it was completely empty. Sneezer was satisfied about that - but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was too quiet. _

_ Suddenly, in the distance, a line of black cut through everything. It was a wave of Nothing, advancing on the Lower House._

_ It grew, faster and faster, hungrily tearing apart buildings, until it hovered directly over Sneezer._

_ And for that moment, Sneezer felt something in his body change. Maybe it was his proud stance changing to a weathered, but still standing slump, or the way he looked at the Nothing. But just then, Sneezer felt _tired_, wishing to be a servant again, with no universe-changing powers or command over thousands of people._

_ Sneezer wanted to sit down, have a cup of tea with his Times of Day, and laugh._

Sneezer shook the dream out of his head, ruffling his red hair. Instead he turned to the Atrium. Everyone there was still buzzing with excitement - insolent thinking Denizens.

"I think," he began testily, "It would be best to remove Arthur to a different location."

"'Ow about the Gardens?" Suzy suggested.

"Too many Denizens," the New Architect argued. "The Far Reaches would do well; then I can fix the Nothing at the same time."

"The _Far Reaches_?" Arthur asked, aghast. "But that's... the Pit!"

"Not anymore," Scamandros told him. "It is now the vast Cavern, and indeed, my village only has 90 Denizens."

Sneezer regarded his former master Penhaligon with a frosty glance. The boy, as far as he thought, didn't know anything.

"To the Far Reaches," Giac said, robes swishing. He shook Arthur's hand vigorously. "I got made Saturday!" Giac whispered. "_Saturday_!"

"Nice!" Arthur said back, abruptly pulling Giac into a hug. "Good job!"

Fred slung Wednesday's limp body over his shoulder, then offered his hand to Darkness. Madam Friday, surprised, gladly took hold of Thursday's hand. He smiled at her, then waved the Fourth Key. A cushion shivered, then opened up an entrance to a weirdway. The two - plus Wednesday's body - entered the weirdway, enthusiastically making signs.

"I have it in here _somewhere_, just not there... if only I still had my glasses..." Scamandros was murmuring to himself as he dug through his familiar canary yellow greatcoat. "Aha! Miss Leaf, a Transfer Plate to my demesne. Lord Arthur, the New Architect will take you."

Arthur, meanwhile, had gone to shake the hands of Sneezer's Dawn, Noon, and Dusk. He had paused a little at Noon, the one he knew best and the one who had helped him in the Old Universe, who gave him a small hug, full of warmth.

Sneezer, rolling his eyes, didn't wait for Arthur to come nearby. But some part of him resisted using the First Key, urging to go over to Arthur and talk.

"Times!" Sneezer ordered, overcoming his mind. Really, did the New Architect _have_ to make the Denizens...think? It was unnecessary.

They disappeared from the Atrium, away to the Grand Cavern of the House.

GIAC, COUNT SATURDAY

There was something strangely electric in the hug Arthur gave him, something Giac hadn't anticipated. He anxiously waited in the central square of the Grand Cavern, leaning against the fountain. At the moment, his Dawn and Dusk were engaged in both a battle of sorcery and a battle of insults.

"Mute boy," Dawn said as she sent a blast of fire at him.

"Lover of the insane," retorted Dusk as a stream of Activated Ink, his specialty, swerved through the air.

"Cheater." BLAM!

"Liar." POW!

Giac noticed with a wry smile they seemed to enjoy the fight.

"Writer." Ice this time.

"That is _not_ a bad thing. Miscreant artist." More Activated Ink.

Count Saturday was glad they had the chance to practice their sorcery skills - they had been working all month. After returning from the worldlet, all but three telephone lines were cut, and Giac had given up, fixing one here or there for a moment just for a single call. After looking at Earth through Friday's mirror, he seriously considered asking the New Architect for cordless phones. Another bridge, in the remote part of the Upper House, had collapsed, strewing a clover field with brick debris. And the cleanup of the City of Four Roots had yet to finish, slowed down greatly by the absence of Saturday and his times.

A flash of light distracted Giac from the battle. The New Architect and Arthur were arriving.

ONE WHO SURVIVED THE DARKNESS, MADAM FRIDAY

Darkness stole a couple of indiscreet glances at Fred, hoping to catch his attention. He once looked over and smiled quickly - Darkness instantly noticed a small dimple in his left cheek, the arch of his eyebrows...

She shook her head. Now was _not_ the time to be thinking about crushes. She had seen the Secondary Realms often from her mirror, but had never thought it would come on so fast. And just from talking to Fred on a weirdway!

Arthur was red again; his aura was flaring out and striking at the New Architect's.

"I have to...to JOIN YOU again?" He roared.

Scamandros' face was a beautiful city, which was quickly consumed by a roaring flame. "Lord Arthur, if you don't, the House will collapse, and so will the rest of Creation. Again."

"I CAN'T, don't you understand?" Arthur yelled. Suddenly his aura shrunk into a pitiful baby blue. "I have a family. Bob, Michaeli, Eric..."

Darkness glanced up to see Sneezer rolling his eyes and massaging his temples. His aura was basically nonexistant - a small black dot that was cold and lifeless.

"Uh, this is great and all, but what about me?" Leaf asked. "I kinda feel...funny."

"Stand here," the New Architect ordered. He then lowered a singled finger down onto Leaf's shoulder.

Leaf could only stand in horror as his finger began to melt into her arm.

SUZY, LADY SUNDAY

Suzy could only gape as she watched more and more of the New Architect sink into Leaf.

"'Ey, Art, is that s'posed to 'appen?" she asked anxiously.

"No!" shrieked the New Architect, pulling his arm out of her shoulder. "It's not. Obviously, the hole was meant for one person - not Leaf. As it closed on her, the Maw tried to seize her. Luckily, Fred grabbed her and saved her from further harm. But-" here the New Architect glanced nervously at Arthur, who had clenched his fists. "But the Maw managed to snag a bit of her - a piece of dead skin, a shoelace, a scrap of fabric from her pants - and tied Leaf to itself."

"Which means?" Arthur demanded.

"Which means... I am now one-fourth. Both Arthur and Leaf are part of me now."

Suzy quietly waved the Seventh Key, opening the parasol just once. "Unhinge my jaw," she whispered. Her jaw obediently fell to the floor, making her mouth eight times bigger.

Scamandros' face showed spinning fractions, 1/2 into 1/3 into 1/4, knives cutting pies into fourths, and a toothy grin.

Saturday's Dawn obligingly froze Dusk into a statue of permanent surprise.

"...Not okay," was all Arthur could get out before dropping to the floor.

SCAMANDROS, DR. TUESDAY

With Leaf in a troubled sleep and Arthur still out cold, Scamandros and the New Architect set out for the edge of town.

"Charming work," the New Architect remarked. the two winding streets were cobblestoned, and featured a bountiful boulevard in the center. The gumdrop-shaped earthy villas that lined the streets had doors next to strom lanterns - named in honor of the Old Universe's source of light in the Pit - and each featured charming gardens that grew plenty - perhaps with some help from Nothing fertilizer, a creation of Scamandros' Dusk.

"I try my best," Scamandros said modestly. His face darkened, and dark, billowing clouds covered his skin. "But we can't admire the village right now. Look."

He was pointing to just outside the gates of town - a new addition, wrapped all around the village. Through it one could see the massive splotches of Nothing, hundreds of them, stretching out to each other and conjoining to form one, massive hole. Right in front of their eyes at least twenty yards of ground disappeared, the soft, warm brown, rocky and spongy in alternating places, became deep black, where one misstep meant death.

"Oh dear," muttered the New Architect. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear."

He creaked open the gate and waved his hand, but only a small patch of earth came back. Frowning, he flung both hands out, filling in a hole briefly, but it was swiftly snuffed out by the Nothing.

The next time the New Architect flung his entire body, but the field of land he created was soon gobbled up.

"You need to isolate the Nothing's source, or else it'll continue like this. This is coming from your Fountain, I presume?"

"Yes." Scamandros' tattoos were of large fountains with black spouts, flowing everywhere and eating up the base.

"Take a group of people - Suzy, Giac, some trustworthy Times, maybe... Arthur, if he wakes - and go down into the fountain. Find the source of the problem, destroy it or sequester it, and come back up."

"Understood." Scamandros' face betrayed his worry, the jet of Nothing covering his cheekbones and rising up to his forehead.

"I'll hold it off for now. Go!"

Scamandros set off at a quick trot, heading straight for the Fountain.

The New Architect sighed and looked out on the Nothing.

"_Four_ parts of me. _Four_..."

EVERYONE

"So, here's who's going into the Nothing Fountain. Monday's Noon."

Scamandros looked up. Noon nodded and bowed his head slightly.

"Myself. My Times, although it is, er, a time of adventure and, ah, danger, don't pause in your work. Continue on the Great Maze shipments. Wednesday still needs to recover, so not her. Thursday and Friday, I think it would be best if you guard against Nithlings. Saturday, I want you and your Dawn and Dusk to come. Suzy, you too, of course."

"This'll be fun!" Suzy said brightly. "Me, Noonie, Doc, Giac, Dawnsie, and Dusker!"

"What?" came a disoriented voice.

"Lord Arthur!" Scamandros said, bowing. "I was just putting together a group to go into the Fountain Depths and stop the flow of Nothing."

Arthur straightened up at this. "I'll come," he offered.

"'Ey, 'ow's that fer old times!" Suzy laughed. "Doc, Giac, Me 'n Artie!"

"Not _Artie_!" Arthur protested weakly.

"Now's as good a time as ever," remarked Monday's Noon wisely. "We should head off."

"Indeed," whispered Scamandros' Dusk. He walked over to Scamandros. "Good luck, Tuesday," he said quietly in his ear.

"Er, thanks," Scamandros said awkwardly. He slapped at his cheek as a small pink heart appeared. "M-m-mosquito," he tried to explain.

"Mmhm," smiled Dusk.

Scamandros, still blushing, scurried to the door to the Nothing Jet, occasionally tripping on his own feet.

As he opened the door a crack Wednesday gave a cry. She had just awoken, and a spray of Nothing from the door had touched her foot.

"Return to the Void," commanded Giac by instinct. It did, but not before consuming her foot, leaving a rounded stump of smooth skin.

Wednesday smiled weakly. "Now I can have a real pegleg, huh?"

Scamandros, meanwhile, had bustled to a cabinet. "Obviously the Nothing has gone out of control. Everyone will wear Immaterial rubber-like cloaks that you put over your head like a blanket. You'll be able to see still, but will have protection from the Nothing. For a while, at least - Immaterial can last for a bit, but not for long."

Everyone not in the group edged toward the back of the room, while those in it threw the heavy cloaks over their hair.

"I can tell these 'ere cloaky things weren't designed for the top 'at," grumbled Suzy.

"No," Scamandros said apologetically. "Ready?"

"Yes," came the nervous reply of everyone.

He first cast a spell on most of the room. "Immaterial spell, short-lasting," Scamandros explained.

He fully opened the door, and let out a blast of Nothing so large it forced the group back into the wall.

"FORWARD!" yelled Arthur, pressing through the blackness. Nothing globules grabbed on to his cloak at every chance, leaving him with no seeing space whatsoever.

"NITHLINGS!" shrieked Dawn.

And it was true. Hundreds of gobbets of Nothing collided into each other in the tight space, forming mismatched creatures of the Void.

The only one faring well was Saturday's Dusk. Being an expert in Activated Ink sorcery, he whirled Nothing around into a spiral, sending it back into the Jet. But even his expertise couldn't help them.

Suddenly something fell out of Scamandros' sleeve. "My lost glasses!" Scamandros said in surprise. They slipped out of the Immaterial cloak and landed with a _flup_ -

Right into a hunk of Nothing.

As strange, black light began to wreath around the combination, most everyone's faces turned white. Arthur tried to recall what he had heard about Nithlings - bibliophages, Fetchers, Scouchers, Gore-Drakens...

Gore-Drakens! What had he heard. something about a lost item...

Arthur's face drained of color as he realized what was happening.

"GORE-DRAKEN!" howled Giac, racing for the door to the Nothing Jet.

"Wait, Giac! The balcony there - it's probably dissolved-"

He was cut off by a scream of anguish and pain that came from below them, in the Depths.

Silently, the remaining seven pushed their way forward, blindly wandering through Nothing.

They dropped into the blackness below.

**(Thank you for reading. I will not spill any couples because some might *coughWILLcough* change, but there is one I would like to share: Saturday's Dawn x Saturday's Dusk. Everyone's thinking, INCEST? But I think of the line 'brothers' as a metaphor-ish, maybe...? Anyway, I like the pairing. I had a blast with this chapter - it was fun to write the developements. What happened to Giac? And the others in the group? Find out next time - On Full House.)**


	4. Chapter 4

Full House

**(ARG! I haven't updated in SOOOO long - I'm so sorry! Thanks as always to you faithful reviewers. What has happened to Giac? Is he... DEAD? *Soap opera music plays* I hope not, that would ruin the story. More pairing development is to happen-ish, as well as a very dramatic ending scene. Read and enjoy!)**

FRED INITIAL NUMBERS GOLD, SIR THURSDAY

"I DON'T KNOW HOW TO STOP THIS!" Fred shrieked over the incessant pounding of Nothing. He and Madam Friday had reinforced the Immaterial wall seven times in the last five minutes.

Madam Friday made a few quick hand motions that Fred made out to be _'seal the device of yours that releases jarring music,'_ which he interpreted as _'shut up'_. She was concentrating on the creature before them, who was clawing at the wall.

Fred had never seen a Gore-Draken, and would have been pleased to _not _see one, ever. The creature looked like a cross between a squid, a gastrointestinal tract, and a dragon. Hundreds of pink, squishy pipes spread out of it, some weakly coughing up blood on the floor and others slamming into the Immaterial, all the while letting out a monotonous hum. It was the hum, actually, that was most frightening - it was one note, yet seemed to dominate sound waves over the Nothing.

Wednesday peered as close as she dared to the Immaterial wall. "Thank the Architect Scamandros saw his glasses," she murmured in relief. "If he hadn't, the Gore-Draken would have fully formed and _then_ we'd have trouble." She was nursing her leg, which looked disturbing - strips of her skin still remained, flapping loosely in the ferocious wind whipped up by the Nothing.

Fred looked at the Gore-Draken and wondered how _anyone_ could consider that a blessing.

"Look!" breathed Tuesday's Dusk in fascinated horror. The Gore-Draken stretched it's tentacles to the walls where shelves used to be, before the Nothing had pored in. It dipped into the Nothing and drew out half-dissolved items, still recognizable, and fed them into a gaping hole in it's side, something so grotesque there was no way it could be a mouth.

"Lost items," whispered Wednesday. "They _were _lost, from us anyway. We never would've found them."

"It's getting bigger," whimpered Monday's Dawn. "It's growing more tentacles."

Fred watched in disgust as bubbles of half-formed Nithling poured out of various crevices of the Gore-Draken, taking an unsteady shape and crawling towards the wall.

He gulped and raised the Key.

SCAMANDROS, DR. TUESDAY

The Nothing burned.

It hadn't touched his skin - yet. But the thickness of it, surrounding him, made him feel claustrophobic. The Immaterial cloaks were so pressured that they had assumed a position pressing into his skin, so that if he took it off it would be a perfect model of his body.

In the hazy blackness beyond, he couldn't see anybody. He had never been down into the Depths before, really, so there could be all sorts of twisting tunnels and detours they were lost in.

"Suzy? Giac? Lord Arthur? Noon, Dusk, Dawn?" he called, but the oppressing darkness swallowed his words whole.

SUZY TURQUOISE BLUE, LADY SUNDAY

Suzy loved to explore and go adventuring. Heck, she hadn't even seen all of her Gardens yet. Her fondest memories were that of almost dying with Arthur as they flew, bruised themselves, swum, and marched through the seven demesnes in order to right more than a few wrongs. She had been an ink-filler, and indentured Pit worker, a lady - _ugh_ - and a submarine crew member, a private and a general, among others.

But she couldn't help but hate the Fountain Depths. Not even the Pit had been so dark and empty - the Nothing was always there, reaching out to grab her. She didn't even know if her Immaterial coat was there anymore. When Suzy closed her eyes, it was there, invading her brain, smothering how she functioned, destroying her mind.

"'Ey?" she called in a small, tentative voice. "'Ey?"

Desperation began to roil within her. "'ELP!"

"Suzy!" cried Arthur.

"'Ey, Artie," Suzy said weakly. "Where are you?"

"On a platform. I think it's the trouble we're having. There's less Nothing here, so maybe you could create a strom lantern...?"

Suzy felt her way through the tar-like Nothing, pushing through vast amounts like a biscuit crumb into syrup. She could feel Sorcery radiating off Arthur's body, even if it was mortal. That's why she could hear him so well.

"OUCH!" Suzy yelled. She had hit a metal wall, crushing her nose. "You could 'ave warned me!"

"Sorry, Suzy," Arthur said sheepishly.

Out of nowhere an arm appeared, covered in rubber. It had plunged through the Nothing, like from the top of a pool, and was stretching down towards her face.

Suzy reached up and grabbed hold.

She shut her eyes.

GIAC, COUNT SATURDAY

A strange feeling, being almost dead.

Only moments ago - it felt - Giac had been pondering Arthur's embrace, thinking longingly of the mortal. Now, he didn't even know if he was alive.

"Very curious indeed."

He could talk. That was a good sign.

The heat from the Immaterial pressed down on his skin. A barrier against the Nothing. A weak barrier, but a barrier none the less.

He shut his eyes.

MONDAY'S NOON

I hurt.

When I hurt, I think-

Of that time I was in the Atrium.

Battling my brother.

My very own brother. My flesh and blood.

So merciless.

So cruel.

Fire

Burning.

Knocking over chests of tea-

"Brother, don't destroy the tea. It's Saturday's and we're already in debt."

Atrium.

Brother.

Flesh.

Fire.

The tea spilled-

Monday will certainly deduct my pay.

SATURDAY'S DAWN AND DUSK

**(Primary source document, found on a voice recording. Who knows how they smuggled that into the House.)**

**Dawn** Dusk?

**Dusk **Dawn?

**Dawn **At least you're alive. Me, I can't feel my legs no more.

**Dusk **ANY more, Dawn. And I think I win for most of myself gone.

**Dawn **And this was a contest when, O grammarian?

**Dusk **Don't be hating on my grammar skills. You're just jealous.

**Dawn **I ain't got no jealousy! And you stepped on my leg.

**Dusk **I _don't have any_ is the proper term. And you said you didn't have any legs.

**Dawn **I lied.

**Dusk **Liar.

ARTHUR PENHALIGON

Arthur pulled Suzy up from the floor - or wherever she had been standing. She quickly conjured a strom lantern that more or less lit up the space around them.

The metal platform had been lucky. Some of the Nothing 'sponge cake', as Fred - Sir Thursday - called it, had formed, but not enough to disintegrate it.

"You okay?"

"Now you ask me," grumbled Suzy. replenishing her Immaterial suit with a wave of the Key. "So, if we're nearby this 'ere problem, where is it?"

Arthur had to admit that she had a point. In the darkness, he had assumed to platform was quite big. In the light, however, it was barely big enough for both to stand on.

But the roaring was louder than ever, and that gave him some hope.

"That noise has to be coming from somewhere," Arthur reasoned. "Once you get your bearings we'll- AUGH!"

The platform shot upward like a crazed bull seeing another bull wearing a fashionable red jacket. With matching booties.

The roaring sound increased as they rose higher and higher.

"SHOULDN'T WE BE ABOVE GROUND BY NOW?" screamed Suzy.

"I GUESS SPACE IS BENT HERE!" replied Arthur.

The abrupt halt tossed both of them to the floor. The strom lantern was lost in the Nothing. Suzy tentatively cast another one into the air.

A giant funnel of Nothing whirled before them. The overpowering lack of anything consumed them. Similar squares nearby, positioned in a perfect circle around the funnel, were shifting up and down, up and down. There were twelve, like a clock.

"I think we've found the problem," Arthur whispered.

GIAC, COUNT SATURDAY

Giac had many unpleasant memories.

Most involved extreme pain of some sort. It was kind of a recurring theme in his life. If someone were to write a book called _Giac_ - that sounded narcissistic - a major theme would be _'life-threatening situations and/or defying death'. _

This one happened to be more painful than others. It just so happened that, while Giac was quietly contemplating death, a giant block fell on top of him.

"Ow."

Giac, through extreme body manipulation - most Sorcerous Supernumeraries, when going through sloughs of depression, would fold in on themselves, often become two-dimensional, and gain an intense ability to contort themselves- managed to slither out from under the block.

Well, at least it was solid land. Giac hauled himself up onto the block, carefully relocating all of his limbs. His body popped and crackled as muscles settled into place.

"AUGH!" Giac screamed as the platform shot up. **(Deja vú?)**

His muscles involuntarily re-dislocated.

SATURDAY'S DAWN AND DUSK

**Dusk** Have you ever had that feeling-

**Dawn** When you're in an elevator-

**Dusk** And you jump before it goes down-

**Dawn **And your stomach goes all funny?

**Dusk **What we felt when the platform took off was kinda similar.

**Dawn **Only backwards.

**Dusk **So it felt like our stomachs were rising-

**Dawn** Coming up our esophagus-

**Dusk **Oozing out in a mass of organs-

**Dawn ** A big, sloppy mess of smaller intestine-

**Dusk **No, larger intestine-

**Dawn** Are they part of your digestive system?

**Dusk** They look like fire hoses.

**Dawn **_Pink_ fire hoses.

**Dusk** Pink, _squishy_ fire hoses.

**Dawn **Oh, it stopped. There's Arthur and Suzy!

**Dusk** And Giac and Scamandros and Noon! They don't look too good...

THE FOUNTAIN DEPTHS EXPLORATION TEAM

The roaring grew louder and louder as the tornado of Nothing swirled quicker and larger than ever. The twelve blocks - five of which were occupied by extremely terrified Denizens (and a mortal) - seemed to quiver, as if resisting the pull of the twister.

All in all, the situation wasn't good.

"HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO QUARANTINE THIS THING?" yelled Arthur.

"YOU ASK ME! A CLOUD IS FEEDING IT" screamed Scamandros.

Sure enough, a smog of Nothing above the tornado, just like a cloud and a real wind funnel. It was evidently channeling Nothing into the deadly mass.

Noon slumped over, fainted. Nothing trickled over his face, legs, and arms, leaving little trails of emptiness wherever the droplets slid.

"I GOT AIM ON THE TWISTER!" shrieked Suzy, pointing the Key at the funnel.

"I GOT AIM ON THE CLOUD!" replied a trembling Scamandros. His face was so covered by tattoos - a tribe of quivering monkeys sat on the bridge of his nose - that his eyes were invisible.

"I got to sit down," Giac remarked truthfully.

**(And so I leave y'all with a deadly cliffhanger! The style in which I wrote Dawn and Dusk will remain for the rest of the story, so give me feedback. What will happen to the Fountain Depths Exploration Team? What is happening to the Denizens above? How is the New Architect holding up? And most importantly - when will the darn author make a kissing scene? Find out next time - On Full House.)**


	5. Chapter 5

Full House

**(Hi y'all! Welcome back to Full House! This chapter will finish the Fountain Depths exploration. And this chapter will end with the revelation of three pairings! Excited? Read and enjoy!)**

GIAC, COUNT SATURDAY

Giac slowly opened his eyes.

The scene was not good. Monday's Noon, sprawled on his block, was barely holding himself together - literally. Trickling streams of Nothing ran across his face, neck, arms, and legs, slicing parts of his body clean in two. Only Noon's high ranking saved him from completely being consumed.

His own Dawn and Dusk quietly sat together, arguing as usual. Dawn was painting and Dusk was writing, so neither paid him any mind.

Scamandros' face was clear of tattoos, and he was standing in a physically impossible position, having somehow swapped his legs for arms and vice versa. The arm-legs, quivering under his weight, must have won the record for longest handstand by now.

"Giac," whispered a voice.

"H-h-hello?" he tentatively said. Some Nithlings, he knew, could speak.

Then he looked to Suzy and Arthur's block. Suzy had been the one talking, and she was frantically waving her arm.

"Giac! It's gone!"

_That_ was it. The incredible roaring of the Nothing twister was gone, and Suzy - who was straight across from his, and had been blocked from view before - was now visible.

"I've lit a few strom lanterns," Suzy explained, flying across the room with her parasol. "We can get out now, the Nothings all gone t'-"

"Where's Arthur?" interrupted Giac. "Is he okay?"

"Yeh, Artie's fine," Suzy said begrudgingly, muttering under her breath something like "good-fer-nothing Sattieday's all interuptin' Sunday, now is 'e?"

Giac paid her no mind. He effortlessly jumped from block to block, his blue robes fluttering in the air like butterflies.

When he had reached the block, he knelt down next to Arthur. Giac checked for a pulse.

"Suzy, when did you check him?" Giac asked urgently.

"Abou' five minutes ago, t'the dot. He were breathing fine, no blood, no mess - is something wrong?"

"I can't find a pulse. At all."

THE NEW ARCHITECT

Art walked back into the village, closing the Nothing-wrought gates behind him. Just as suddenly as they had been appearing, the pools of Nothing stopped exploding in front of him, leading to an easy fix. The vast expanse of the Grand Cavern was now restored, the browned, rocky landscape stretching as far as the eye could see. In the distance were the slight blue dots of the giant wall crystals that dimly lit the Cavern.

He strode confidently past the villas, but his mind was awhirl. Leaf, the Maw, Arthur, himself... He had no guarantee that just touching someone else wouldn't divide him into _fifths_.

As he walked towards the Fountain, he shrunk himself, put on an Immaterial bubble, and entered.

Inside was a mess. One half of the room had a frantic, quick-dissolving barricade made of books and chairs in it, all shored up against the Immaterial Wall, which was fast disappearing from the ceiling down. Huddled into a corner were Wednesday, missing a foot, Thursday, Friday, Tuesday's Times and Monday.

Sneezer stood up, smoothing down his hair and jacket. "About time!" he said pompously.

"Wait, don't get out of the doorway-" Wednesday called feebly.

A Gore-Draken shot out three tentacles, grabbing onto the Architect. It screamed as the pure sorcery Art was made of dissolved it's tentacles.

"Return to the Void," commanded Art, staring at the half-former creature.

With a pop, the Gore-Draken disappeared. Everyone in the room let out a tremendous sigh of relief.

"Wednesday," Art said.

"Y-yes?" she replied.

"Let me take a look at your leg."

He crossed the room to where she sat. Scamandros' Times, ever efficient, began to take down the barricade, examining and fixing books as best they could. Sneezer began the process of dusting off his body, while Fred and Friday signed to each other.

The Nothing was, in a reversal of Earth physics, trickling_ up_ Wednesday's leg, having already dissolved a bit. Art remembered doing a similar procedure once, to a Dangerous Plant Caretaker First Class who was chomped by a Nothing-laced Venomous Tentacula.

"This will hurt," he said, and without waiting for an answer, created a new foot and stuck it onto Wednesday's body.

"AIIIIIIIIIIIE!" she shrieked, her eyes rolling backwards in pain. The Nothing on her leg disappeared as new strips of skin rolled upwards and stuck onto her leg, pushing the other skin aside to get back in a comfortable, even space.

And then it was over. Wednesday slowly opened one eye, then the other. She glanced at her foot, frowning as she attempted to move it.

"I can't wiggle my toes or my ankle," she remarked. "And I don't have toenails."

"Sorry," winced Art. "They'll grow, as will your muscle memory. It's essentially an adult-sized baby foot."

"I guess it works. Thanks." Wednesday looked up to Art's eyes and smiled.

Art swallowed. Her eyes had a way of sparkling and snapping, smiling even bigger than her mouth.

He liked it.

A jolt of pain sent Art tumbling head over heels, collapsing to the floor. It was Arthur. He was hurt. Very hurt.

And he could kill the Architect.

SATURDAY'S DAWN AND DUSK

**Dawn **We are. Running. Fast.

**Dusk** Very. Fast.

**Dawn ** Giac. And Suzy. Are carrying. Arthur

**Dusk** And Scamandros. Has Monday's. Noon.

**Dawn **And I have. A cramp.

**Dusk** You'll just have. To deal.

**Dawn** I heard. A shriek! From. Aboveground.

**Dusk** We're close. I guess.

**Dawn** I hope. I have. A cramp.

**Dusk **Sometimes. It's not about. You.

**Dawn** At the moment. I think it should be.

**Dusk **People happen. To be dying. If you didn't notice.

**Dawn** Dying is in the eye. Of the beholder.

**Dusk** If. It is. Then never think. Of me. Dying.

**Dawn** And have to. Live with you. Forever? No way.

**Dusk **Fine then. Go ahead. And think me. To death!

**Dawn** I'm. Trying.

SCAMANDROS, DR. TUESDAY

Scamandros felt the combined power of the First, Third, Fourth, and Fifth Keys coursing through his veins. The Trustees in the Fountain were obviously starting to lift them up.

He needed it fast. Nothing dripped quietly from Monday's Noon to his shoulder blades, and he had to keep in a constant shrug to avoid it trickling down his body - an unpleasant sensation he could do without.

Without warning Scamandros was lifted off his feet. A group of confused angels with jetpacks raced past his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. They needed to get back into the Nothing Jet room fast, or they'd be smashed against the ceiling.

Speak of the Architect. Just as his head would have banged into the Nothing sopped, Immaterial mess, Scamandros flew upward, past the now-controlled Nothing Jet. He scooped up a handful of Nothing with the Key and quickly made a makeshift balcony, not unlike the Atrium. He directed the Second Key's Power towards the balcony, where he and the others landed.

Immediately he dashed inside, carrying Monday's Noon with the last of his strength. Suzy, Giac, the unconscious Arthur, and Saturday's Dawn and Dusk were at his heels.

The sight inside was a shock. All his careful work was destroyed, and a slimy trail wound across the floor, the only remnant of the Gore-Draken.

And the Architect was curled up on the ground, screaming with pain.

Scamandros shrugged Noon off his shoulders, gently placing him on a cushioned bench. He ran towards the Trustees and the Architect.

"What happened?" he asked urgently.

"Whatever happened to Arthur, happened to him," explained Fred. "And Leaf also. All I can hope is that it hurt the Maw too."

"How can we heal them?" wondered Scamandros urgently. "We have to do something!"

"Calm down," a quiet voice behind him instructed. A dash of pink - not a tattoo - appeared on Scamandros' face.

"D-dusk," he stuttered. "Are you okay?"

"Better, now that I know you're safe," his Time replied.

"Th-th-thank you," Scamandros mumbled. _'Smooth,'_ he thought angrily to himself.

Wednesday appeared from the side room where Leaf was. She was balancing on one leg.

"Thank heavens I played hopscotch with dolphins that one time," she muttered, then talked louder. "I healed her as best I could. It's still Wednesday on Earth, but only just. Thursday'll have to do the healing from here on out."

"Look!" Suzy exclaimed, pointing at the Architect. "All that Nothin's washin' righ' off 'im!"

The Nothing which had been splattered across the Architect's body was melting away.

"It's because I healed Leaf," Wednesday thought out loud. "They're all connected, so we'll heal them all if we heal one. Thursday, why don't you try Arthur?"

"Sure," Fred replied. He grabbed the Fourth Key from his belt, and was about to wave it when Scamandros yelled, "WAIT!"

"What?" Fred asked, annoyed. "I need to heal Ray - Arthur. He's my friend."

"I've found a problem," Scamandros whispered. "They all _are_ connected. So if we heal our friends, we heal the Maw. Theorizing on basic Nithling facts, healing them actually made it stronger. Every time we save our friends' lives, we make our enemy stronger."

No one spoke. The question was clear:

Kill their friends and save the universe?

Or save their friends and kill the universe?

No one spoke.

ARTHUR PENHALIGON

Arthur groggily awoke to bright sunshine. A butterfly landed on his nose, tickling his nostrils and making him sneeze.

"Geez, and I just wanted a place to sit," remarked the offended butterfly. "Thanks a lot."

It fluttered away, leaving Arthur to wonder if he was in a hallucination. The last thing he could remember was the Nothing twister coming towards him, and pain. Lots and lots of pain.

"Offended Butterflies," said a voice. "Made 'em myself."

"Suzy?" Arthur called out.

"Open yer other eye, you -alf-brain."

Suzy stood next to him, leaning on her Key.

"What...where...the Gardens?"

"Doc thought you should recover 'ere for awhile."

"Oh."

Arthur sat up a bit, realizing he was in a chaise lounge.

"What happened to the Cavern?" he asked sleepily.

"Actually I don't know. Art - Architect - says even 'e don't know what 'appened."

Arthur nodded and looked around. To his right and left were gentle, green, rolling hills, covered with patches of flowers. Every so often the hills would actually roll, like ocean waves.

"Nice touch."

"You ain't seen nothing yet," Suzy said jokingly, but she blushed. "Thanks anyways. You wanna see more?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

"Grab 'old!" Suzy yelled, opening her Key. The umbrella ruffled in the wind.

Arthur barely had time to grab onto the handle before they shot up into the sky, flying higher and higher, until the moving hills looked like just a small patch of grass in a network of green.

"It's beautiful, Suzy!" Arthur breathed.

"I know," Suzy said boastfully.

Flowers whirled around the two, a dizzying twister of color.

A pink petal caressed the tip of Arthur's nose. It danced around his face before disappearing again.

Such a fleeting moment.

He turned towards Suzy and kissed her.

ONE WHO SURVIVED THE DARKNESS, MADAM FRIDAY

Darkness stood on the exact summit of the Middle House, her right foot _en pointe_, balancing perfectly on the tiny tip of rock. Her wings fluttered, balancing her, as she turned around and around to look at the Middle House.

It was beautiful. The Flat was going into autumn, the Middle of the Middle was in full spring bloom, and the Top Shelf was stacking firewood for the approaching winter.

Darkness, on an impulse, took a pair of scissors out of her belt and cut her hair.

She didn't exactly know why. The state she was in was a dreamy, lilting one, balancing precariously between consciousness and unconsciousness. Maybe it was to impress Fred. Maybe.

Or maybe not.

Darkness raised a thin, arched eyebrow at the black strands of hair fluttering away in the cold wind, like the black quill feathers she preferred to write with. She and the other Winged Servants who were female were experts at cutting hair - none knew why - so she angled her hair perfectly, cutting a slight bang with a single snip.

All the time, Darkness turned slowly on the tip of the Middle House, her black dress engulfing the mountain top, spinning in the biting breeze.

"Hello."

Darkness faltered for a second, relying on her wings for balance. She recognized that voice.

She signed, _'Fred.'_

"Nice, uh, hair," he stuttered, flying in front of her. His brown-tipped wings were like a hummingbird's, whirring with nervousness.

A quick smile appeared on her face, before disappearing into the air.

"I, uh, wanted to know if you'd like to, er, have lunch, at the, er, Great Maze?"

Darkness thought for a moment. _Thank you_ was an easy sign, as was _yes_, but they seemed a tad, well, ordinary.

She flew up to Fred, kissed him, nodded, and flew away.

SATURDAY'S DAWN AND DUSK

**Dawn** Er, Dusk?

**Dusk** Yeah, Dawn?

**Dawn** About what I said...

**Dusk** Yes?

**Dawn** I'm sorry.

**Dusk **Dawn, apologizing? But really, s'okay.

**Dawn** That's good.

**Dusk** Well.

**Dawn** Yes.

**Dusk** This must mark the first time we've run out of insults.

**Dawn** Yes.

**Dusk** Would you like to paint with me?

**Dawn** Would _you_ like to _write_ with me?

**Dusk** Oh.

**Dawn** Awkward.

**Dusk** Heh-heh.

**Dawn** Um.

**Dusk** So.

**Dawn **What should we-ACK! MMM!

**Dusk** MM!

**Dawn** ...Mm.

**Dusk** Darn gravity.

**Dawn** Indeed.

**(Yes, that was Giac's Dawn and Dusk kissing. You got three kissing scenes today, as well as two defined pairings, so I think I've filled my quota. I now have all pairings mapped out, as well as a general idea of how long the story will be. I'm estimating, that with the pairing subplots, character arcs, and overall story of the Maw, that Full House will be somewhere between 10 to 13 chapters. That was a great chapter to write - during Darkness's scene with her hair, I imagined Florence + the Machine's Dog Days are Over video (the new one) in black and white. Very artistic and surreal. Also, on Darkness's hair - for those following America's Next Top Model, do you know Brittani? My sister was watching that show, then she turned to me, paused and pointed at the TV, and said, "Simon, you better give Darkness that haircut." And so I did. See you next time, Secondary Realms - on Full House.)**


End file.
